


To Receive a Recreational Scolding

by yesmistress



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Dom/sub Play, F/F, Light BDSM, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Riding Crops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-27
Updated: 2014-10-27
Packaged: 2018-02-22 22:01:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2523296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yesmistress/pseuds/yesmistress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in season 2. Reader is sent to The Woman's lair to investigate and retrieve Ms. Adler's camera phone, because Sherlock Holmes can't (won't?) do it himself. She gets drugged and things heat up in an enjoyable way.</p><p>-EDIT: Work in progress. Written in 2013 but I find it horrible and am working on improving it-</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Receive a Recreational Scolding

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. I am from the Netherlands so my English is not THAT good. This work has not been checked by a beta. All mistakes are entirely my own. I do not own the characters used in this story. Pity.  
> Anyway, have a nice read.
> 
> -Edit-   
> I've posted this in 2013 or 2014, I don't remember. My English got so much better over the last years. I'm now rereading it and finding it lacks a proper intro. Also I found a lot of spelling mistakes. Right now I'm editing it and working on a good intro. Will post in a few weeks, after I'm back from my vacation.

You tug at the cuffs around your wrists. You can’t see anything. The bed you’re lying on is very soft and kind of cold, it feels like high quality satin. Your back is hurting and you struggle to find a better position than the uncomfortable slouche you're currently in. You manage to get a little more comfort when you slide down a bit, but at the cost of your wrists. The cuffs are pulling too hard on them, you can feel the blood flooding away from your hands. You have deserved this. You know what’s coming.

The door creaks as it opens and someone walks in. The person slowly walks around you and you can hear them light some candles. In the soft glow of the candlelight you see now that it’s a woman. The Woman. She’s wearing a black lace garter belt with stockings. There’s nothing under or over it, except that she’s wearing black heels. Her hair is done up and her lips are blood red. You feel yourself getting wet as she looks at you. It’s only then that you realize you’re stark naked. You must’ve been quite out of it, then. Why must she always drug you? It’s not like you’re not willing to give yourself over to her.

“Well well, my pet,” she says, “You haven’t behaved very well today, have you?” You look at her for permission to speak and she nods.  
“I’m sorry Mistress, I didn’t mean to-”  
“Well of course you’re sorry _now_ , now I've tied you up. But saying you're sorry is not enough for me, I want to see _how_ sorry you are.”  
“Yes miss Adler,” you sigh, rubbing your thighs together, anticipating what’s coming next.  
“You must understand,” she says as she pulls out a dark satin scarf from the closet next the the bed, “That I cannot let this behaviour of yours go unpunished.” And with that, she blindfolds you.

You’ve been reduced to just a willing body, with only your ears to notice what’s happening around you.  
“You are so beautiful like this, my pet. I see you’re practically drooling down there. Why don’t you ask me nicely to help you out?”  
You feel your face get hot as blood rushes to your cheeks. You’re ashamed to beg for your Mistress to take you, to punish you, to dominate you even more. You hear the riding crop before you feel it and then you wince in pain.  
“Sorry miss Adler, Please, I’m so sorry, please, punish me,” you gasp. Her smile can practically be heard as she says: “Such a good girl for me, Y/N.” She bends over you and unlocks the handcuffs that tied you to the headboard. She then binds your wrists together with another satin scarf.

“On your hands and knees, pet,” she commands. You flip yourself over and, a little clumsy, get in the right position. The bed dips as Irene gets on. “Now count for me,” Irene says, as, with a loud smack of leather on flesh, she lands the crop on your right arse cheek. “One!” you say. “Two!” you count, as she smacks the left one. “Three!” on your inner thigh.  
The smacking just seems to go on and on forever. With each smack of the crop, you feel like you’re falling deeper into the mattress, further away from the world. Your breathing becomes more irregular, just like the way you’re getting smacked. You vaguely remember to count every time she hits you.  
Around twenty, you’re practically sobbing and you’re having trouble with counting. At twenty-five, you think, your arms give up and your face hits the pillows. “Now already, pet? You’re disappointing me,” Irene mocks as she strikes you again. You mumble something unintelligible and she counts " That's twenty-six. Can you take four more?" You start whispering an affirmative but she interrupts you, "I expect you to speak up, dear." You start again, speaking clearly this time "Yes miss Adler, please give me four more strokes," and you hear her hum appreciatively. Immediately she hits you three times, on your left and right thigh, and one on your left arse cheek. "Twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine" you groan. She then puts the riding crop away. Her hand glides over your red arse and you shiver. She lets her hands go over your arse cheeks, down to your thighs, and up again. “And this is for siding with Holmes and his sexually confused friend,” she says, as she gives you one hard spank and you cry out in pain.

“Shush shush, dear, we don’t want the neighbours to hear, do we?” You know this is all part of her play, Irene hasn’t got any neighbours that will complain about screaming, the walls are thick and her house is huge. You let out a ragged breath. “No, miss Adler.”  
“Good,” she states, as she gets up from the bed. “You go make yourself comfortable and wait for me, I’m just getting some basic bedroom equipment from the other room.” With that, she closes the door behind her.  
You sigh and stretch out your legs. You’re lying face-first on Irene Adler’s satin duvet. Your arse and thighs are red and they feel like they’re burning hot. Your limbs start to relax and the bed is so soft you fear you might drown in it.

Just as you start to drift off, you hear the door open again. Irene walks in and closes the door behind her again. You hear her drop an object on the bed. “Now we’re going to have some fun, my pet. Turn over.” Slowly, you flip your left leg over the right one and turn your body over. Clearly you were not fast enough, and you have deserved the slap on your hip. You let out a gasp and lay down on your back. “Legs apart,” The Woman commands, and you oblige. “Further apart, you little prude.” You spread your legs further and then you feel the bed dip as your mistress crawls on. She sits between your legs and bows over your body. She secures your bound wrists to the headboard of the bed. Then, suddenly, she takes your right nipple in her mouth. You breathe in sharply as she bites the soft little nub into hardness. As she keeps kneading it, she moves to your other breast and licks the nipple until it’s hard. She then moves her head away from them and pinches both your nipples hard, which causes you to moan softly. “Are you still ready, my dear?” She whispers in your ear, as she slides one hand down your body. Her hand stops under your belly button and you realise it was a question. “Yes, yes miss Adler, I’m still ready,” you hastily say. “Good girl,” she says as her hand slides further down. She puts her index finger between your folds and you immediately feel exactly how slippery you are down there.

“Hmm, you definetely are ready…” Your mistress says as she slides two fingers into you. Your hips buck up and Irene removes her fingers from you, using both hands to keep you still instead. She pins you to the bed while returning to your breasts, sucking on one nipple, softly biting it. When it’s hard, she moves on to your neck. “Tell me what you want, dear,” she whispers in your ear. You moan as she starts creating what has to be a huge hickey.  
“Tell me now.” You cannot find words to answer to her, and she lets go of your body entirely.  
“No, please, touch me,” you mumble. “What was that? I did not quite understand that, darling,” she teases. You try again. “Please Mistress, please touch me again, I will behave I promise, please just touch me…”

“Was that so hard?” She asks you, as she caresses your left cheek. You lean into the touch, and she removes her hand. “You will not take more than I give you, pet, you’d do best to remember that.” She then grabs your thighs and pushes them a little further apart. “Keep them like this, will you?” She demands, and grabs one of the objects from the bed. You have no time to wonder what it is, as she’s already pushed it inside you. She starts moving it, and you try your best to keep still. As you lose control of your hips, Irene pushes the dildo further inside you, while using one hand to pin you down. She releases you again and you hear her flick a switch. Oh, a vibrator, then. Your Mistress starts moving it again, slightly faster this time. Moans and pleas spill out of your mouth, as you feel pressure building up. When Irens puts a finger onto you clitoris and gently adds pressure, you can’t handle it anymore and try to struggle away from her. She grabs you and pins you down again, continuing her sweet torture. Your whole body is trembling by the time she leans over you and kisses you hard. She licks a wet stripe from your neck to your breasts. As she bites your right nipple, you arch your back as your pleasure peaks. Right after you orgasm, she puts a needle in your neck again and you feel yourself slipping away.

As you come to, a worried John Watson is staring at you while admonishing Sherlock. “Why would you even let a girl like her investigate that bloody woman? You knew she wasn’t fit for the job, you just wanted her to succumb to her!”  
“It’s for a case, John. Also, perhaps you should ask her how she experienced it, instead of throwing all the blame at me,” you hear Sherlock say, as he walks by and goes to sit on the couch.

You yawn and stretch your arms. As you do so, the blanket under which you were laying, slides off you and a huge lovebite comes into sight. Watson lets out a sigh and Sherlock looks at you. “You enjoyed Ms. Adler’s company very much, more than you first expected. You’re still swimming in endorphins, and you are proud of that horrible lovebite. I can get so much information about Ms. Adler’s persona by just sending you there and studying you later. I can deduce everything she did to you. My, you enjoyed it.”  
“Sherlock, stop this. You can’t send her back, let her be drugged with god knows what, and let her be raped by that BDSM crazed woman!” John interrupted.  
“I would like her to decide this for herself, John,” Sherlock said as he kept staring at your face and neck.

“You want to do it again.”

“Yes.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment. As this is my first fic, I would really like some comments, a little criticism, to improve my writing.


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